


blooming day

by krucxa



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Flower Language, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluffy Ending, Hanahaki Disease, Heavy Angst, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, also minho only appeared like once and he didn't even do anything i'm sorry, but only for a second, chan too but jeongin doesn't know it at first, it's like idk maybe 6/7 k of angst n later it's just pure fluff, jeongin being all sappy for chris is mainly just me projecting my own undying love for this boy lmao, jeongin is whipped, later on jeongin knows it's okay, later they're just sappy together, tagged t only because of the angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 15:24:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14571906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krucxa/pseuds/krucxa
Summary: Narcissus, also commonly called a daffodil; the flowers are usually yellow or white - while the most common symbolism is of rebirth and new beginnings, they can also mean unrequited love-Jeongin turned off his phone, staring blankly at the black screen for a few seconds before throwing the offending object to the other side of his bed.





	blooming day

**Author's Note:**

> okay so, whaddup, i'm back! with an unrelated fic gjklhsdkljgsd idk man i'm still having writers block but I SWEAR i will continue for you and flowery path just give me some time :^)  
> also this is unbeta'ed because! when do i even beta my fics anymore am i right hhh

_Narcissus, also commonly called a daffodil; the flowers are usually yellow or white - while the most common symbolism is of rebirth and new beginnings, they can also mean unrequited love-_

Jeongin turned off his phone, staring blankly at the black screen for a few seconds before throwing the offending object to the other side of his bed.

He didn't want to read any of it. The words only made him feel worse about the whole situation he suddenly found himself in.

He's not even sure when it started. Maybe it was that one time that Chan smiled so widely at him after a dance practice, his dimple showing, his shoulders slumped from the exhaustion but still happy to spend his time with the rest of the band, that made Jeongin's heart flutter for the first time. Or maybe it was the moment when he saw the older making food for all of them, his brows furrowed in concentration as he worked, his curly, bleached hair all over the place, the sleeves of his red hoodie rolled up to his elbows. Right then, Chan wasn't wearing any fancy clothes, just your casual attire, his face bare of any make up that Jeongin got used to see all the time even before they debuted that the sight of the older without it was almost as rare as seeing him relaxed and well rested - but Jeongin didn't mind, somehow still thinking of Chan as the most beautiful thing he's seen that day.

He might not know when it started, but he's sure that after that, he couldn't help but notice Chan in the littlest details that surrounded him.

He sees the older in the sparkling, night sky, he sees him in the clean, carefully folded laundry he's sure he has thrown carelessly on top of his bed a few hours ago, he sees him in the cute cat videos he sometimes watches on YouTube, reminding him of the older and his pure adoration for the little fur balls.

But with every reminder of Chan's existence, his throat starts to tingle, his lungs burning and he can't stop the coughing fit that shakes his body.

At first it was just that, an uncomfortable feeling at the back of his throat, Jisung handing him a coughing syrup over the dining table without any comment, only smiling softly at him when he thanked the other boy.

With time though, what he thought was just a simple cold that very convienently made itself known every time even a simple memory of their leader slipped through his mind, turned out to be more serious than he thought. But he couldn't tell anyone about it - they've already worked so much just to debut, he couldn't take their dream away from the rest of the members.

Even if the reality of the situation made his stomach dip in anxiety as his gaze locked onto the single, yellow petal laying gently on top of his palm.

It was beautiful, tender even, but as much as it was pretty, it also made the uncomfortable feeling at the back of his throat tighten, making it hard to breathe, and he leaned back, scratching at his Adam's apple as he looked up at the ceiling.

The seconds flew by, the ticking of the clock reminding him of the late hour and the fact that his roommates would soon show up. His feelings were wild and messy, making it unable to tell the exact emotions that teared at his heart, but despite it all, his mind was blank of any thoughts.

He slowly closed his his palm, his fingers covering the delicate petal, before crumbling it to pieces. He inhaled sharply, ignoring how his lungs suddenly felt like they were on fire, and he forced himself to glance back down at his hands.

He threw the little snippets of the flower into the trash can.

It didn't take him long to forget about them, especially when the rest of the band came back from the local grocery shop, and he buried himself by helping Woojin in putting everything to its place.

×

"You cheated, don't even try to deny it!" Jeongin looked up from where he was scrolling through his phone, his eyes immediately locking onto the _circle of fools_ surrounding a game of Monopoly.

Felix was pointing angrily at a shrugging Changbin, Seungmin hiding a smirk behind his hand. If anyone was cheating, Jeongin was pretty sure it was actually him, but he didn't say that out loud. He guessed they all were having too much fun for him to intervene.

"I don't know what you're talking about," murmured Changbin in reply, before rolling the dice and cheering quietly at the result.

Jeongin saw Chan come into the room from the corner of his eye, the older drilling at the sight of the members playing. A sigh left him, clearly expecting it to become messy really quickly - and honestly, who could blame him? Jeongin thought the same.

Hyunjin was sitting next to Changbin, leaning his weight entirely onto the shorter boy, but he didn't seem to mind, too preoccupied with bickering with Felix. At this point the blonde was already getting up to his knees, his brows furrowing in irritation, and Woojin who was lying behind him reached out his hand, having to hold him back so he wouldn't kick Changbin's ass there, at that exact moment.

Honestly, when Jeongin let himself think about it for a few seconds, it was kind of funny how quick they all bonded with each other. Some would think that for a group consisting of nine boys it'd take a long time to build relationships between every single one, but for them, it was totally different.

Maybe it was because instead of the company, it was Chan who chose all of the members - or maybe it was just the fact that they went through so much together before even debuting.

Either way, here they were, and the whole band felt like a family.

He smiled softly as he watched Felix whine, trying to shake Woojin's grip away in frustration, even though no matter how angry he might've looked, it was all just for the sake of the argument, the little bickering that always had its place in their shared dorms.

"You know what, I'm suddenly feeling really tired," drifted off Woojin, earning himself a lifted eyebrow from Changbin and a quirk of Chan's lips, which caused him to continue, "carrying the burden of being your friend is exhausting."

Jeongin winced at Felix's betrayed shout of _excuse you!_ , but it didn't take him long to join Hyunjin and Seungmin in their snickering. Even Chan couldn't help but let out an amused snort, not bothering to try and scold anyone for their fighting.

He let his gaze fall back to his phone, tuning out the bickering of his friends as his eyes flickered between the words on his screen. It was easy to stop paying attention despite their loud voices, as he already got used to them in the time they've already spent together.

His thumb hovered over the screen, scrolling down slowly as he read, feeling himself relax, the sound of his friends' arguing and the shuffling of the blankets as they kept rolling around in the background only helping his heart rate to slow down, and leaned back in his chair, sinking into it comfortably with a content sigh.

Jeongin liked spending his time like that - not exactly alone, but not exactly interacting with anyone either - just sitting nearby, aware of the presence of the rest of the members, who wouldn't ever push him out of his comfort zone, not knowingly at least.

His head fell back, resting it on top of the chair, and he closed his eyes, letting a small smile pull at his lips.

He breathed in slowly, then out, hiding his phone in the pocket of his jeans, and was about to stand up when a pair of arms wrapped around him, locking him in place.

Slightly startled, he straightened his back, holding himself back from shrieking at the surprise. A light chuckle filled his ear as a person let their head fall onto his shoulder.

"Hey, Jeongin? You're okay, right?"

whispered Chan, his warm breath tickling his neck, apparently not bothering to hide the affection for the younger from his voice. The fact made something in Jeongin's chest stir, and he nodded the slightest bit, unsure of what he should say.

The older hummed lightly, squeezing Jeongin gently in his arms.

"I'm really glad you're here," he murmured, his voice barely audible but full of sincerity. Jeongin just nodded in reply, not trusting his own voice, and Chan continued, "before we debuted, I was scared that we all wouldn't make it together. But now, seeing all of you is just... really comforting."

And Jeongin could tell the words were from the bottom of his heart, hushed and meant only for him at that exact second, but for some reason the warmth in Chan's voice suddenly made him feel sick.

The arms slung around him lost their reassuring solace, becoming a heavy weight that pulled at his heart, and he just couldn't understand why the back of his throat started to sting. His lips tingling, he turned his head away from the older, clearing his throat before gently pulling back from Chan's embrace.

"That's... nice."

He couldn't help but wince at just how fake the words sounded, hoping that the other didn't notice the bitterness lacing his voice, and he scratched at his neck unconsciously.

"I don't feel to well," he added quickly.

He didn't even glance back once as he took a run for it to the toilet, where he spent the next ten minutes standing in front of the mirror, shaking slightly as he stared at a single hydrangea petal stuck to the side of his tongue.

He only left after Hyunjin knocked on the door for the third time, followed by a concerned question if he was alright.

Because worrying his friends was the last thing he wanted to do - even if it meant the secret would consume him from the inside, the image of the single petal flushing down still burning in his mind as he went to sleep that night.

×

Ever since Jeongin was little, he's never even questioned the possibility of him liking boys.

He grew up hearing people say that boys are supposed to like girls, and the other way around - accepting it as a universal truth, he's never felt bothered to question it. Because if everyone said so, how could it _not_ be the truth?

It was kind of ironic how he only realized he's done something against the rules he's been taught to, when he started crouching up flowers. 

At first, he denied the feelings even existed, despite having an actual, physical evidence in the form of the petals. Only later on, did he slowly get accustomed with the fact - even if still, the only thing he felt when the realization it him was disgust.

It felt like he was doing something wrong, acting against his own parents by falling for another boy. 

And he had to admit, he's beat himself up for it enough times for someone from their band to realize that something wasn't okay, the person being Jisung. 

And as Jeongin glanced at his best friend from the corner of his eye, he couldn't help but feel glad that it was him. 

At the time, he knew he was pushing his luck. Crying in their shared dorms at four in the morning wasn't the wisest choice, but he couldn't really control his feelings, could he? 

That's when the older boy stumbled into the room, his expression confused as he padded closer, gently sitting next to Jeongin on his bed and comforting him without asking questions, waiting patiently for an explanation but also not pushing for it if the younger didn't want to talk about it. 

That night was filled with hushed secrets, letting out the feelings that they've both been hiding for way too long at this point and soft reassuring they exchanged while lying under the covers. It was when Jeongin heard about Jisung's admiration for Felix, the older boy gushing about him with dreamy eyes despite the sad smile that adorned his lips. 

It all made Jeongin feel a little bit better about his own feelings. 

"Damn, I knew the stars were hypnotizing but I didn't think you'd get so into them that you'd forget my presence." 

Jisung's voice snapped him back from his thoughts and he shook his head lightly before looking at the other again. Jisung was already staring back at him, his eyes glimmering in the moonlight, a wide grin on his lips. 

And Jeongin knew the older was beautiful. Not only his personality was what made him the sweetest person on earth, but also even his smile made Jeongin think of sunshine. 

Because Jisung was all about that. Jisung was all warm colors, cost cuddles and blooming flowers. He was the soothing breeze on a summer day, the fallen leaves in the middle of autumn, the gentle cracking of the fire at a cold, winter night. 

His touch was always gentle, and he never did anything without asking first, in case it would make you uncomfortable. 

It all made Jeongin wish it was Jisung who he's fell in love with. 

"Shut up, I was just... thinking," he murmured in reply, knocking their knees together, the action making Jisung chuckle. The boy snuggled closer, wrapping the blanket around both of them more securely. 

The notebook in his lap almost fell over, but Jisung grasped it in time, his eyes widening for a second before calming down again. 

He brought his pen to his lips, thinking of anything new to write down, making Jeongin look down at the words that already adorned the page, scribbled in a spurt of the moment as they tried to come up with any lyrics for their new songs. 

Funny, how Jisung always seemed to have his artistic peak at ungodly hours of the night. 

"What's your favorite constellation?" whispered Jisung, breaking the silence that fell between them. 

Jeongin looked up, tapping his fingers against the glass door before them in thought. 

"I don't know," he replied after a few seconds, because it was true. As much as he liked stargazing, he never bothered to actually learn anything about the beautiful sight. 

Jisung handed him the pen silently, stopping the even _tap tap tap_ of Jeongin's hand against the glass, and the younger smiled in fork of apology. 

"Well, my favorite is the Big Dipper," he mumbled, Jeongin's quesionig gaze making him continue on his thoughts, "it's just. It's the only one that's always been there, for me. I don't know, it's just... It's the first one I've always seen on the sky. Whenever I'd look up, I can always find it, contrary to the other ones. It's probably why I like it so much." 

Jeongin listened cautiously, sliding Jisung's notebook into his own lap without really thinking about the action. 

He liked hearing Jisung ramble about the things the boy loved. His eyes would get this warm glint about them, as he smiled unconciously as he talked. 

It wasn't that often of a sight, as he usually made sure that others would feel included, not bothering to make space for himself. That's why when the two of them hanged out, Jeongin liked to let Jisung talk on and on about his own passions, listening to the excited note in the older's voice, glad to be the one who made it come out. 

He's doodling absently, not bothering to pay attention to what the scattered lines were turning into. Instead, his gaze was stuck on their tangled legs, the angle kind of awkward but comfortable enough for both of them that they didn't even think of moving. Not really looking at them, too deep in thoughts to actually notice anything. 

A light shove to his shoulder pulled him back into reality. He noted a pitying look in Jisung's eyes that the boy was unable to hide, before glancing down at the notebook in front of him. 

There, he sees the corner of the page adorned with Chan's name, surrounded by a bunch of lopsided hearts, some more tilted than the others, drawn in sloppy, jarred stripes. 

He teared out the page without any more thought. 

Later that day, a few lilac petals followed the page in their way to the trash can. 

×

Despite the fact that he loved being an idol, it was also easy to get tired of it. 

Sure, there were the upsides. For example, he got to perform, show off his skills and make his own music. He loved how meaningful the words he sand were, written by the other members of his own band. He loved the supportive fans, loved to see the way they gushed about everything they did, loved the attention.

But as much as he liked the pros, there was an equal amount of downsides to this situation.

He shook his head quickly, refusing to think about it too much.

Today, they had a the whole day free of any practices, a special sort of holiday they cherished with their whole beings. It wasn't really often that they'd get a day off, so when it actually happened, they made sure to relax as much as they possibly could.

It was a stress relieving blessing, the one day when Jeongin let himself let his guard down.

A stupid sickness wasn't going to ruin his evening.

Or at least, that was what he kept telling himself as the entire band stuffed itself in front of the tv, all of the nine boys trying to find a way to fit in. Despite the fact that they could simply go search for another tv in their dorms, they preferred it this way.

Jeongin stole a glance around the couch, unable to hold back a smile at the sight of Hyunjin sprawled on Woojin's lap, the older's arms wrapped around him comfortably, his knees knocking against Minho's shoulders who paid it no mind. Next to him sat Jisung and Changbin, shoving each other lightly every now and then, their hushed bickering barely audible, easily blending in with the sound of the movie.

Jeongin kicked his legs in the air, letting his head fall onto Seungmin's chest, melting in the older boy's hug with a content sigh. Even though it was hard to pay attention to what was happening in the tv as his gaze kept on locking onto the other side of the couch.

There, lay the Australian duo, cuddling comfortably, their legs tangled together while they exchanged comments about the plot, a few jokes finding their way in and making their faces light up with laughter.

And Jeongin wasn't jealous.

Maybe, a little bit. But nothing more than that.

He had to admit though, how it was just a little bit sad how he couldn't even focus on what was playing on the tv. As much as he tried to will himself into watching, paying attention to what was currently happening, he just couldn't bring himself to keep his eyes on the tv.

After a few seconds of struggling, filled with aggressive pinching of his own thigh and tapping his foot against the edge of the couch, he finally gave up with a dejected sigh.

Fortunately, nobody seemed to hear it, except Seungmin who spared him a confused glance but decided not to comment on it. And Jeongin felt glad that he didn't - he was already too busy with stealing shy glances at Chan to explain anything.

It wasn't his fault, really. Every single person who's ever saw Chan would have to admit to being swept up by his handsome looks. Jeongin would even go as far to say that the older's face was so beautiful as if it was sculped by Aphrodite herself.

Okay, maybe he was pushing it a little, but what could he do? As much as he winced at his own whipped thoughts, he couldn't help it. He just... adored him. Maybe even a little bit too much.

Definitely a little bit too much.

The flowers in his chest agreed, tickling his lungs slightly, but once again that day, he decided to ignore them.

Because as he watched the way the corners of Chan's eyes crinkled up in a smile, his one dimple showing, making Jeongin realize just how much he wanted to reach out and poke it, pinch his cheeks in the softest way possible, squeeze them together and hopefully make the older laugh with the action - he couldn't help but remember just how great of a person the other was, and what exactly made him fall for Chan.

A soft smile found its place on his lips as he saw the older giggle uncontrollably, clasping a hand to his mouth in a failed attempt to calm himself down, his shoulders shaking with laughter that seemed to light up the whole room.

It made Jeongin feel some kind of warmth spreading around his chest, the feeling making him giddy, the ends of his fingers tingling in, what emotions it exactly was? Honestly, he had no idea.

But it felt good.

As long as Chan was happy, he was content as well.

He let his gaze fall to the blonde currently lying in Chan's arms, and almost startled when he saw Felix staring dreamily into the distance.

Or, maybe not actually _distance_ , because as he glanced in the direction that Felix was looking, his eyes locked on the bickering duo, specifically his best friend.

Which was... interesting.

Jisung was currently holding Changbin in a headlock, the shorter boy trying to shove him away, glaring at each other despite the little grins they couldn't hide. It was clear, how much fun they were having, and Jeongin cracked a smile at the realization just how much of a stuttering mess Jisung would become if he realized that Felix has been watching them the entire time.

Maybe Jisung's feelings weren't as one sided as they thought before.

Maybe, just maybe even the blonde could've been as whipped for Jisung as Jisung was for him. It seemed possible, considering the way his starry eyed look that he couldn't even try to hide.

And as Jeongin peeked up at Chan once again that evening, he couldn't help but relate.

He, as well, was a fool in love.

The pink roses he coughed up the next morning seemed to agree.

×

The sound of keyboard clicking filled the room, the monitor the only light source at the hour.

Despite the knowledge that all of his friends were currently asleep, he kept on glancing back, just to check if anyone wasn't nearing the place he was in.

Call him paranoid all you want, but he wasn't about to blow his cover just because he was too immersed in freaking out to notice a person coming in.

If he was coughing up flowers, it would be a good idea to check all of their meanings, he figured as he tapped in another string of words into the search bar, cursing the slow working internet. Because of course it would work the worst when he actually needed it the most.

He squinted at the screen, trying to come up with the exact names of the flowers he remembers seeing leave his mouth.

Some of them he didn't know the names of before, which only made his research longer and more tiring, but others were actually pretty easy to recognize, like the pink roses he had to get rid of just a few hours ago.

Finding their meaning was also quicker.

_Roses in color: pink_ , read the title of the page as his eyes scanned the page, passing the ramblings that people for some reason always stuffed before the actual thing you wanted to read. Maybe it was to seem professional, but in Jeongin's situation it was only a waste of time.

"Gentleness, admiration, gratitude, appreciation," he read out loud, keeping his voice hushed just in case, and he pouted at the words, ignoring the rest. He already got the general meaning, so it's not like he needed any more synonyms as a cherry on top of the cake called disappointment.

He guessed that, after all, the flowers were right.

Because that was exactly what he felt the night before when he couldn't tear his eyes from Chan's dimly lit face.

Next, he remembered the flowers he coughed up after his cuddling session with Jisung. Apparently, those were lilacs.

Or, at least, that's what the internet told him.

Lilacs symbolized youthful innocence and confidence - something that always seemed to surround both him and Jisung, especially at times they spent alone, way from the rest of the band.

He smiled at the realization.

A few clicks and nervous nibbling at his lip later, he finally found out that the second flower that has ever left his lungs was called hydrangea.

"Heartfelt emotions," he murmured, his voice a few tones higher than usually, unable to hide the confusion. _Gratidute for being understood_ , followed the word, but it only made Jeongin even more stunned.

Because those definitely weren't his own emotions the petals resembled at the time.

Despite the shock though, he kept scrolling, reading even more and more, learning the language of flowers just for the sake of it. He figured that, if he was going to cough up even more of them, maybe it would be better to know their meanings beforehand, instead of once again risking getting caught.

_Sunflowers_ , he read in his mind, _stand for pure thoughts, adoration and dedication_.

He just wondered whether he was going to see its petals or not.

×

As much as Chan seemed like the responsible leader, in his worry for others he always seemed to forget to take care of his own self.

It wasn't an unusual sight to witness him overworking himself at late - or maybe even early, at this point - hours of the night, nor was it surprising to see deep, dark circles accenting his eyes.

It physically pained Jeongin every time he saw the older stumble into the doorway on his way to their shared dorms, too tired to even keep his eyelids open. The way he'd crack an exhausted smile, how he'd chuckle in his low, raspy from not using it for such a long time voice, it all made Jeongin want to wrap the other in a blanket and maybe even (gently) force him to rest, if Chan would be feeling particularly stubborn.

That's mostly why he wasn't the least bit shocked when at precisely two in the morning, he saw the older shuffle into the kitchen, his eyes closed, his head nodding off every now and then, a single arm thrown onto the nearest object for him to keep his balance.

It left a numb feeling in his chest.

And maybe Jeongin wasn't supposed to stay up this late either, but you didn't see that stopping him. Actually, he and Woojin both should be in their beds at this hour, but instead they were sitting next to each other by the table, munching on a bowl of cereal with milk, talking sleepily about the stupidest things. Even though as Jeongin listened to the older ramble, it seemed like the wisest thing in the world at the moment.

And as Woojin was in the middle of wondering aloud, what would it be like if it were cows instead of humans to form an intelligent society, a wild Chan appeared, like some kind of a rare Pokemon that would made Jeongin look in shame at the lack of pokeballs he had at hand.

Or maybe Jeongin was playing just a little bit too much of Pokemon Go lately.

"I thought you went to sleep like two hours ago?" interrupted himself Woojin, in the middle of standing up from his seat. The youngest just nodded silently in agreement.

"I was... supposed to," Chan mumbled in defence, struggling to open his eyes. When he finally did, though, Jeongin couldn't help but nibble at his lip in worry at the way his eyelids kept falling back down, like the older wasn't even conscious of it. The tired slouch of his shoulders wasn't helping, if only it made him feel even worse.

If only he could pick Chan up and gently put him to his bed, letting the older snuggle to the covers.

He remembered how Changbin once told them all about the way Chan apparently mumbles incoherent sentences in his sleep, but falls quiet when anyone tries to actually respond.

Would he do that too if Jeongin was there to witness it?

Would he roll to his side with a satisfied hum? Would he hug a pillow while whining about something happening in his dreams? Would he react in any way if Jeongin let his fingers tangle in his hair?

But after all, he guessed, he'd probably never get an answer to those questions.

"Have you seen yourself? You need to take care of yourself too."

Woojin's reprimanding voice pulled him out of his thoughts and he looked up from his cereal to see the older already by Chan's side, his hands keeping the other in place and using the classical _I'm not surprised, just dissapointed_ look that made everyone in their band tremble in shame.

Chan opened his mouth to reply, but Woojin was already speaking again, not even letting him get a word in.

"Come on, you're going to bed on your free will or I'm gonna carry you if I'll have to," he threatened, the fight in Chan's eyes instantly disappearing as he nodded.

"I could... help?"

Jeongin didn't even know why he said it. He had no idea he was even going to. His own lips just worded a sentence without his agreement, and he suddenly felt small as the duo glanced at him, surprised.

Their eyes wide open, like they just forgot he was even there, and for some reason, the fact hurt him just a little bit.

"It's okay," reassured Woojin, his gaze soft as he smiled down at him lightly, "I've got this."

And without saying anything more, the two left the room, Woojin's food easily forgotten on the table, the bowl ironically full in comparison to the empty feeling left in Jeongin's chest.

And it's not like they were doing this on purpose, Jeongin knew that. But the knowledge alone wasn't enough to help him feel better as he stired the cereal blankly, his previous appetite suddenly gone, as if the absent two took it with them.

The back of his throat tingled uncomfortably, and he reached up to scratch at it without any more thought.

The action didn't help though, and soon dry coughs started leaving his mouth, the sound muffled by his hand in gear to not wake up anyone. After a few seconds he finally calmed down, his throat stinging and lips pulled down into a frown as he stared at the bunch of yellow carnation petals floating inside the bowl, mixing with both the milk and cereal in some twisted interpretation of Pollock's paintings.

(It was kind of unnecessary, in Jeongin's opinion, as the paintings themself were already twisted enough.)

He remembered the meaning of the flower as clearly as if he read it barely seconds before.

The words _disdain_ , _rejection_ and _dissapointment_ repeated themselves again and again in his mind, until he couldn't even stand the sight of the petals anymore, dumping the entire content of the bowl into the toilet before deciding he was too tired to go to sleep to his own bed and drifting off on the couch.

×

It's four in the morning, yet the lights in the practice rooms are still on, showering his skin in their sharp, pale light, but he pays them no mind. Instead, he's staring down his own reflection, squinting at the lacking movements, critizing his own posture as he dances.

His chest is heaving with the rough breaths that he takes, his muscles aching, pleading him to stop, but he ignores them, only pushing himself further.

He's concentrated on the music filling his ears, the first notes of Vixx's Fantasy playing once again, the song on repeat, helping him to stay awake as his body grows tired with every second that passes.

He closes his eyes, muttering along to the words _I made a wish under the bloodshot sky_ , shouting in his mind at his legs to just _move_ , despite the fact that every breath burns his lungs, his throat suddenly dry as he wills to slow down his racing heart.

The wire of his earphones is tangling uncomfortably with his wrist, following his jarred movements, smacking his skin every now and then and he winces, but does nothing about it.

It's too late for him to play the music from the speakers, he decided before, and he wasn't going to change his mind now.

He nibbles at his lip, focusing on the lyrics again.

_That this all would be a dream when I open my eyes_

He puffs out a humorless chuckle. Just how ironic this was, how the words perfectly fit his own situation.

"But it didn't come true," he whispers, aware of the way the words tingle as they leave his lips, how his own voice seems scratchy, raspy compared to his usually gentle tone.

Maybe it was just from the exhaustion.

Or maybe it was because of the _feelings_ towards the one person, that he'd rather forget about.

Unfortunately though, his willingness wasn't enough to get rid of the pull he felt towards Chan, no matter how hard he tried to squash down the stupid, mushy emotions.

Because who even needed feelings? In _this_ economy?

He glances at his reflection again, at the dark circles accenting his eyes, the tired slouch of his shoulders, the skin of his neck that's adorned with red strings from just how many times he has scratched at it in a failed attempt to get rid of the uneasiness at the back of his throat.

It stings, making it hard to breathe, and his eyebrows furrow as his hands travel up to it, pawing at it uselessly.

Nothing like that would've been happening if he just didn't catch feelings.

But even at that, he's miserable.

He lets his thoughts wander to the one person that captured his heart, that stole it from him without even knowing, how he couldn't even bring himself to be mad at them - blaming only himself.

He remembers how at first it was just a simple, little crush. Just, the pure bubble of adoration he felt in his chest at the sight of the other, his eyes wide in awe as he watched Chan perform.

He remembers how his heart fluttered for the first time at the sight of the one dimple peeking out when the older smiled so widely, his eyes glinting, his hair so curly that it made him wonder if it would be as soft to touch as it looked like.

He remembers how with time his respect for the older only grew bigger and bigger, every time he saw Chan caring for others despite not feeling his best either.

He remembers, he remembers, and the vines in his lungs slowly start to suffocate him, the flowers that he refused to cough out the whole day pressing at his throat, determined.

And he remembers, until it all becomes unbearable, the choke hold of the flowers too much for him to handle.

It starts as a simple couching fit, but it keeps going on and on, and his knees suddenly feel weak. He's trembling, before he falls to his knees, staring in horror at the flower petals spilling from his lips, seemingly never-ending. He notes his earphones lying nearby, tangled on the ground pitifully, the music still blaring accusingly at him. They've probably must've get janked out of his ears in the process.

Somewhere, at the back of his mind, a thought passes by, because how was it even possible to hold so much petals inside his lungs? But he's too stunned to think more about it, too busy trying not to fall face first into the pile of flowers. He recognizes the petals as roses, their color a deep, dark red.

He remembers the meanings behind it, unable to hold back the twist of his lips at how ironic it was - before the whole sickness, he had no idea there even was a language of flowers. Now, he knows it actually a little too well.

_Regret, sorrow_ , speak the flowers, and another coughing fit shakes his body.

He's panting heavily, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles became white, and he wonders how will he be able to hide all of this now.

That's when his eyes widen, and he realizes just how much racket he must have made with his sudden pity party.

But what made him out right panic was the sound of footsteps that followed.

He didn't even notice how his lips started to tremble, how tears started to fill up his vision as he threw himself at the pile of flowers, grasping as much petals in his hands as he could at once, pushing them closer to himself, in hopes of making it at least a little bit less noticeable.

The footsteps grew closer, faster with every second, and the pure panic chocked him, his movements becoming sloppy.

Nails scraped against the wood in haste to somehow hide the evidence of his sickness, anywhere, just anywhere would be good enough for him; but the practice room was empty, making it impossible to do so.

And by the time the door opened, his cheeks were already wet with tears, his heart pounding in his chest as he gasped for breath, his hands wiping at his face angrily as the petals fell back down onto the floor.

It was all just too much, the feelings he desperately tried to hide for so long finally exploding and he sobbed. He was just so tired, so incredibly tired of all of this, and he knew that he couldn't possibly hide it any longer.

The truth was out, and he couldn't do a single thing about it - he could only slump over in shame.

After barely a few seconds, he noticed a pair of arms wrapping around him, pulling him back into a strong chest, and he was too weak at this point to even attempt to wiggle away.

So he just leaned back, trying to find comfort in the warmth surrounding him and the familiar scent of Chan's cologne that he's always liked so much. Even if it didn't help him in calming down the slightest bit.

And as Chan kept whispering the same words, over and over - _it's okay, it's going to be okay_ \- Jeongin only sobbed harder, until his eyes started to sting, whimpering at the uneasiness at the back of his throat, until he eventually couldn't even keep his eyes opened, drifting off in Chan's hold.

He didn't even notice how he hasn't coughed up a single more petal while in the older's embrace.

×

Jisung wasn't even aware of how lucky he was.

And Jeongin didn't even mean it in a bitter way. It's just how things were.

He knew how oblivious Jisung was, they were best friends after all. They told each other everything, starting with the most positive thoughts and ending on the loneliest emotions.

He saw with his own two eyes the way Jisung lined after the, barely younger, blonde.

He was there when Jisung feared that his feelings were only one sided, when Jisung cried into his shoulder, comforted his best friend when he was at his lowest point.

But the things is, Jisung was fortunate enough not to cough up flowers.

And as Jeongin watched him joke around with Felix, he didn't even have to guess to know the reason why.

The full smiles they shared, the laughter that filled the room as Jisung tried to (badly) imitate an Australian accent, lowering his voice more than Jeongin thought was even possible, the way they complimented each other, bringing out their best qualities, it all seemed so perfect, Jeongin couldn't help but stare in awe.

It's almost like they were destined to meet.

Somewhere, deep in his mind, a voice whispered, _aren't you jealous?_

But when he thought about it, it wasn't actually the case. As much as he wished for himself to get the same happy ending, the only thing he felt while watch it the duo was content.

He was just... happy, that at least Jisung was in a better place than him.

"They really are something, aren't they?"

He glanced to his side, startling slightly at the sight of Chan sitting next to him, a somewhat longing glint in his eyes. At the lack of response, the older turned to face him, the sudden eye contact stealing Jeongin's breath away, the way the corner of his lips turned up the slightest bit in a smile that just didn't reach all the way up overtaking his entire thought process. He found himself unable to form any words, but it was okay, as Chan only blinked at him slowly, reminding him of how a cat would show you its trust, before once again turning to stare at the two.

"Who do you think will confess first?"

Jeongin pulled his legs closer, wrapping his arms around them as he hooked his chin over his knees, joining Chan in watching the two boys shove each other jokingly.

"Jisung is..." he trailed off, licking his lips in thoughts before continuing, "I think Jisung is too oblivious to do it. While they both seem really whipped, Felix acts like he's already connected the dots, while Jisung... he probably wouldn't even notice it if Felix threw a rock at him with _I like you_ written in big, bold letters on it. He'd probably guess it was meant to be platonic," he couldn't help but chuckle at the mental image of it, his fingers brushing at the hem of his shirt absently.

"You know Jisung really well," murmured Chan, and Jeongin looked up, just to find the older already looking at him, a soft smile on his lips.

For some reason, his heart made a flip in his chest, but he decided to ignore it.

"Yeah, he's my best friend, after all," he replied, the words making Chan's smile widen, finally reaching his eyes which crinkled at the ends in the way that never failed to spread warmth all over Jeongin's chest.

"I'm glad you're close," whispered the older.

Jeongin blinked owlishly at him, Chan just shaking his head lightly and gently knocking their knees together, before standing up with a sigh. He stretched, then suddenly winced as he closed his eyes, covering them with his hand for a few seconds, but the black spots that filled his vision, as Jeongin supposed, soon passed. And with a wave, he turned back, but Jeongin wasn't having it this time.

"Chan, are you really feeling okay?" he called out, standing up himself, seeing the way the older halted mid-step.

The said boy turned around with a tired smile, the tension in his shoulder seemingly easing.

"...Not really," he admitted, scratching at the back of his neck in an embarrassed habit, "I can barely stand up straight from just how exhausted I am, honestly."

"Let me help!"

Jeongin could tell, by the way Chan's eyes widened, that the older wasn't expecting this type of reaction, but it didn't take him long to nod softly, his eyes staring right into Jeongin's soul.

"Sure."

That evening, as they cuddled in Chan's bed, the older sound asleep - his face smushed into the pillow, a single arm thrown around Jeongin protectively in his sleep - a stray sunflower petal peacefully flew out of Jeongin's lips.

He let it land on the floor, instead leaning back into Chan's chest comfortably.

×

The night was cold and breezy, the sky clear of any clouds, making it possible to watch the stars in peace.

Jeongin loved the entire atmosphere of it, loved to sit on the balcony and stare up at the sky, loved the slightly rough texture under his palms that he leaned on, loved the delicate wind that passed by him every now and then, ruffling up his hair and kissing his skin in its own, gentle way.

But he didn't let himself think of it at that exact moment, the only thing on his mind the flowers that seemed to calm down lately, its vines barely tickling his lungs when they felt especially teasing.

Yet the last few days went on peacefully, not a single petal leaving his lips, and he couldn't help but wonder.

Puckering his lips up at the sky, he gazed at the shimmering stars above, unsure - of what? Not even of that, was he certain.

He shivered, the cold seeping into his body, but he paid it no mind, glancing from the corner of his eye at Chan, who stood barely a few steps from where Jeongin was sitting, leaning back onto the railing, his eyebrows knit in concentration.

Jeongin knew they couldn't let it slide, couldn't keep quiet about the stubborn petals, but still, somewhere at the back of his mind, he hoped that this moment wouldn't come up.

"What's it like?" blurted out the older, not meeting Jeongin's eyes, and the boy's eyebrows rose up in surprise.

That question was the last thing he expected to hear, but he was determined to answer it properly, so he crossed his arms and stuck his gaze on the floor, thinking deeply.

"It's... it's weird. I can feel it, inside my lungs, but it isn't chocking me, not exactly... or more like, when it doesn't feel like it," he corrected himself, shuffling his foot to the side unconsciously, "it's as if the flowers have their own feelings, as if it was mocking me by making me cough up a certain type of petals, even though... lately, I think it decided to let me be?" He heard muffled footsteps, but didn't bother to look up, already expecting what the older was doing - even though his heart still fluttered when a pair of arms wrapped around his chest softly.

"Do the flowers feel anything about all of this?" murmured Chan, his voice surprisingly gentle and Jeongin let himself melt in his embrace without any more thought.

"I don't... know. They're keeping quiet."

It was kind of a strange experience, to talk so openly about something he's been hiding so desperately before. But it wasn't bad, quite the opposite, actually - somehow, it felt like a burden was taken from his shoulders, like he could finally breathe properly again.

It was... nice.

"Good," mumbled the older, letting his head rest on top of Jeongin's own.

He couldn't help but remember how Chan was barely even taller than him, just a centimetre, really, so it must've taken him some work to end up being able to do this - which made Jeongin realize that in the middle of their, _what exactly it was, a cuddling session?_ , he's actually leaned down so much he was practically lying in Chan's arms at this point.

A breeze tickled at his nose, and he scrunched his face in reply, wiggling uncomfortably.

"It's cold," he admitted, noting how the hold on his chest seemed to tighten, squizing him lightly, but carefully enough so it wouldn't hurt.

"I'll keep you warm."

And for the rest of the night, the wind didn't seem as freezing to him anymore.

×

"Dude, what's all of this?"

Jeongin looked up at his best friend, blinking up at him owlishly. Jisung was standing in the doorway, one of his hand leaning on it casually as he took in the state of the room, stunned.

"A pillow fort, obviously," he replied quietly, earning himself a unamused glance from Jisung.

"Well, duh. But why is it here, out of all places?" murmured the boy, gesturing vaguely at their shared dorm, and Jeongin just shrugged lightly.

He looked away, feeling his cheeks blush. He didn't even need to check in a mirror to know the pink tint his entire face, ears and neck just acquired.

"Chan and I... kind of, build this, out of boredom?" he mumbled, burrowing deeper into a blanket - and not even any blanket, this exact one was Chan's, but Jisung didn't need to know that - before continuing, ever less audibly, "and he said he had to do something but he'll be back soon?" It took a few seconds of silence for Jeongin to finally gather up the courage to look at his best friend, who was staring at him with a shit eating grin, his eyebrows doing some weird, complicated dance that Minho would probably be jealous of if he even saw it.

Jeongin furrowed his brows, opened his mouth and was about to say something, but Jisung didn't even let him butt in a single word, already talking, "have fun, then. Go get him, tiger!"

Jeongin just threw one of the pillows at him.

The shriek Jisung let out was enough to make him feel pleased with himself, before he felt anxiousness tickle at his heart, once again reminded that Chan just left without a single explanation, only telling him he'll be back _soon_. But how much time could _soon_ actually mean? Would it take only a few seconds, or maybe minutes? Or what if it was actually supposed to be an hour?

But before he could think of it more, the door opened once again, Chan's head poking from it in the most adorable way possible, and Jeongin could literally feel his heart melt as the older came in, his hands behind his back as he hummed Pink Panther's theme in a high pitched voice.

If Jeongin had to be honest, he'd describe the whole situation as ridiculous, but what could he do - the thing only made him feel even softer for Chan than he did barely seconds before.

"Hurry up or I'll eat all the snacks," he complained, even though his whipped smile was enough to tell he was joking.

Chan gasped, scrambling inside to the sound of Jeongin's laughter, and he landed next to the younger, letting his head fall into Jeongin's lap.

"So," mumbled Jeongin, his hand finding its place in Chan's locks without Jeongin even noticing it, "what was so important you had to run off like that?"

The older wiggled his eyebrows, his lips pulling into a self satisfied grin as he spoke, "I don't know, maybe you could guess?"

The words earned him a groan from the younger, who immediately (but gently) shoved Chan away using the nearest pillow.

"Just tell me!"

Chan made a show of considering it, his hand pulling at a non-existent beard as he squinted at the blanket covered floor. Jeongin nudged him with his foot impatiently, which made the older fall into a fit of giggles.

Actually, when Jeongin let himself think about it more, Chan seemed to be in a really good mood that day. Or maybe even, especially giggly, if anything.

He wondered why.

"Actually, I have something to tell you," murmured the older, his voice suddenly serious, and Jeongin glanced at him, his heart seeming to stop for a second at Chan's sudden intense eye contact.

"Yeah?" he squeaked out, suddenly self conscious of how high his voice sounded, and Chan's gaze immediately softened, before he pulled something from behind himself.

Jeongin's eyes widened at the sight of a bouquet of tulips in the older's hand, his cheeks flaring up as he remembered the meaning of the flowers.

"Do you know what these mean?" a nod in reply from Jeongin, and Chan continued, "Why don't you tell me, then?" He gulped nervously, reaching for the bouquet carefully and pulling it closer to himself, feeling a sense of warmth spreading in his chest even though it wasn't even that hot in the room.

"Tulips can mean a declaration of love, but there are also other meanings depending on their colors," he stuttered on the next words, brushing one of the petals of the flowers with his thumb softly, "the red ones usually mean a perfect love, while the yellow here at first represented hopeless love but nowadays most often they're interpreted as cheerful thoughts and, was it sunshine? Oh, also the few variegated here mean beautiful eyes," he stole a glance at the older as he ended his rambling, who grinned at him so widely his dimple showed up, before shuffling closer.

"That's right. I brought them for a reason, you know?"

Jeongin looked away nervously, then once again glanced at the older with a shaky smile, "you're not going to confess your undying love for me, are you?"

That earned him a laugh from Chan, and he joined in after a couple of seconds, his hands grabbing stiffly at the sheets as he willed himself to calm down from his irrational anxiety.

"Actually," murmured Chan, catching Jeongin's attention and they made eye contact, Chan's eyes pulling him in, making him unable to look away as his breath caught in his throat, "here's the thing. I like you. I like your adorable laugh, I like your cute little habits that you don't even notice doing. Like the way you always nibble at your lip when you think deeply about something, or how you drum your fingers against your thigh when you can't concentrate. I like how whenever you're around, even when the room's full of people, you always leave me feeling like we're the only ones there. I like how selfless you always are, how you don't want to worry anyone in case they'd get hurt, or how you care so much despite the fact that not everyone notices it," he sighed, putting his arm carefully around the younger and bringing him closer to himself, "honestly, I don't think I could ever say no to you, it's just what you do to me."

He glanced down at Jeongin, but the younger was hiding his face behind his hands, his ears burning as he shook his head slowly from side to side.

"What's wrong?" asked Chan, his voice even softer than before, and Jeongin could just melt there and then.

"It's embarrassing..." he mumbled, the words slightly muffled, and it was all it took for Chan to chuckle, hugging the younger closer to himself who only whined in response.

The warmth Jeogin felt all this time seemed to take over his entire body, making him feel some kind of giddy, and he couldn't hold back the smile that pulled at his lips, despite still not pulling his hands away from his face.

It took him some time to finally calm down, the various little pecks Chan kept on pressing to his palms, neck and ears not helping the slightest - it actually only made him even more flustered - but in the end, he managed to finally look Chan in the eyes, (somewhat) composed.

"I can't think straight around you," he blurted out, earning himself another giggle and a kiss to the cheek from the older.

"I don't think there's anything straight avout our relationship."

The words made Jeongin crack a smile as he glanced up at the other, just to find Chan already staring back at him, his eyebrows raided, clearly waiting for a reaction.

He shoved the older lightly, Chan just chuckling breathlessly in response, and that was all he needed to know, that they were okay.


End file.
